


within ourselves we are thus

by sinequanon



Series: Happy Holidays 2016 [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ghost Allison, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 19:58:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9140044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinequanon/pseuds/sinequanon
Summary: AU. Stiles lives alone with only a ghost and a not-quite-familiar for company.Said ghost and familiar are looking to change that; this time, via werewolf.





	

**Author's Note:**

> While canon events have basically occurred through season 5, the Hales have never lived in Beacon Hills and have never met the Argents.
> 
> Happy reading and Happy New Year!

Peter knows better than to turn into a dark alley, especially in this part of town, but the wolfsbane in his blood is starting to seriously affect him and he has no problem with hiding as long as it keeps him safe from his pursuers.

Instead of being empty, like he hoped, one of the mages is there, wearing a disturbing smile and a cloak that smelled distinctly of old blood. “I've always wanted a wolf pelt,” he croons, and Peter tries to blink away the growing darkness at the edges of his vision and figure out a way out of this mess. It might be difficult to focus, but he adamantly refuses to die backed into a corner.

(He doesn't care how much his younger sister needed such-and-such ingredient for whatever spell; next time, he would stay home and let her do her own bargaining.)

Peter takes another long blink, and when he looks again, there are two more mages standing next to the first. Neither one of them smells any better than the first.

(He definitely plans on haunting his sister after his death.)

One of them raises something that looks suspiciously like a wand out of the folds of his cloak (and there are _so_ _many_ things the werewolf would say to that if he wasn’t about to die), and Peter ducks behind a dumpster and tries not to succumb to the lethargy pulling on his eyelids.

The unexpected sound of a car horn cuts through the tension in the alley like a knife, but Peter barely has the wherewithal to react as he is hauled into the vehicle from behind and quickly driven away.

<> <>

The next time Peter cracks opens his eyes, he can feel the steady movement of the vehicle he's in, and he fights against the urge to close his eyes again to try and take in the details around him, which...there aren't many to look at. Granted, his head is still pounding, but there was no way he would ever get into such a monstrosity of his own accord. His brain scoffs at the idea of going anywhere in this vehicle seemingly held together with duct tape, regardless of the shape he’s in, and he decides to use what little is left of his rapidly fading consciousness to tell the driver as much.

It takes approximately five seconds for him to register that the beat-up jeep he’s in is apparently driving itself, but by then he barely has time to be surprised before his eyes are already slipping shut once more.

<> <>

There is an unconscious stranger in Stiles's bed when he gets home, and it says a lot about his life that his only response to this is a resigned, “Another one, really?”

He doesn't get a response from either perpetrator, but he hadn't expected one, either. The jeep can't talk, and Allison is making herself scarce at the moment. He frowns in the direction of the window anyway, certain that his unusual familiar is listening.

“You know if you keep doing this that eventually, someone will notice,” he says to the empty air. “I'll get thrown in prison, and it's not exactly as if you can come visit me, now is it?”

Stiles doesn't bother to mention how depressing it is that the only ones that _could_ visit him in prison at the moment are an automobile-turned-familiar and a dead girl; but he supposes that's the price he has to pay to be the most powerful magician on the West Coast.

He isn't sure when that turned into his familiar and his best friend abducting potential partners for him, but he has to admit that they do have good taste.

(It's just that wiping memories afterward is _such_ a hassle.)

Stiles sighs. The guy on the bed might be worth it, though, assuming he has a personality to go with his looks. Stiles might get a little lonely, but he isn't about to be stuck with someone who can't hold an intelligent conversation, no matter how pretty they look.

Stiles could force the guy awake, but it looks like he's had a bad day so far, so the magician decides to get the story from the head thief herself and let the guy sleep.

“Allison! Get your butt down here!”

<> <>

Peter wakes up in small increments as the wolfsbane slowly works itself out of his system. He knows that whatever he's laying on is one of the softest things he's ever touched, the air around him smells of summer storms and apple pie, and that all of the loud, discordant sounds of the city are blissfully muted. He feels inexplicably safe, and he revels in the unexpected feeling. His ears prick at the sound of footsteps moving toward him, and half of a conversation drifts down the hallway.

“...Of course, he’s attractive. That's really not the point right now.”

“No, Ally, it doesn't matter to me that he's a werewolf. Why would that make a difference?” the voice sounds offended, and Peter preens at the possibility that the mystery man is talking about him.

“I don't need a bodyguard. Or a boyfriend,” mystery voice says firmly, now just outside Peter's door. The werewolf hastily sits up and smooths down his no-doubt unruly hair. He knows he's being ridiculous, but he can't seem to stop himself from turning toward the voice like an eager puppy.

Then he hears, “Oh, not you, too,” and the door opens.

<> <>

Peter isn't sure what he expected from the person whose home is so saturated with magic that the wolf wants to luxuriate in it, but it wasn't _this_. The werewolf knows he's staring, but the young man is, too, like there are magnets drawing their gazes together.

“I'm Stiles,” the magician says after a moment, eyes never wavering from Peter. “I'd apologize for the abduction and everything, but I'm not sorry all of the sudden.”

Peter opens his mouth to say something both sarcastic and suggestive, to poke a little at this new feeling. Instead, he gets out little more than his name before Stiles is leaning over him with a look that sends shivers down his spine and puts a smile on his face.

Just as Peter realizes that he's going to get to _taste_ this man already, a heavy crash resounds from elsewhere in the house, and Stiles pulls away with a frown that slowly morphs into a tiny grin as he leans back over to brush an invisible speck of dust from Peter's shoulder.

“Sorry, I need to take care of that. Feel free to look around. Just ignore any weird sounds or smells, and I'll give you the grand tour later. Or, you could take a nap,” he suggests as he saunters out the door.

Despite all efforts to the contrary, Peter is out like a light five minutes later.

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from William Shakespeare's "Othello".
> 
> I really wanted to keep this under 1000 words, but it obviously didn't happen. Honestly, I'd like to expand this a lot more--including a conversation about how Stiles, Allison, and the jeep ended up by themselves--but we'll see what happens.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
